


Awake

by amyfortuna



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-26 06:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18277982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/pseuds/amyfortuna
Summary: Elwing wakes in the captain's cabin of Vingilot.





	Awake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alona](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alona/gifts).



> _"And it is sung that she fell from the air upon the timbers of Vingilot, in a swoon, nigh unto death for the urgency of her speed, and Eärendil took her to his bosom; but in the morning with marvelling eyes he beheld his wife in her own form beside him with her hair upon his face, and she slept."_

Elwing awoke to morning light, all her limbs aching, stretched out her sore muscles against white bedsheets, caught then how the light shifted and scattered from the round window above the bed, and sat up with a gasp, memories coming back. 

Wings beating about her head in a sudden uplifting rush, she’d flung herself upward into the air as though propelled from unseen hands, Silmaril within the Nauglamír still about her throat, as it had been while she was human. But where was the Silmaril now? She pawed, frantic, about the sheets, knowing even then that it was not there. 

 

\------

Eärendil felt her wake, the muted bond between them sparking back, her emotions hesitant, quizzical, and then frantic with fear. 

He strode back over to the captain’s cabin, flinging open the door and entering, the Silmaril about his throat scattering brightness around the room. She stopped moving as he walked in, went still and breathless, her dark hair falling like waves all about her slender limbs.

“Beloved,” he said. “Do not be afraid. You are safe now.” 

“Eärendil,” she whispered, and was in his arms so swiftly it was like she flew there to land against his bosom once again. 

 

\------

“No, keep it!” Elwing exclaimed, laughter in her voice, when Eärendil took the Silmaril off and tried to hand it to her. 

So he set it by, taking his wife into his arms again, holding her close. She laughed, a wild high note, as though she had not yet recovered from being a bird, and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in the warm linen of his shirt. She was naked but apparently hadn't noticed yet. 

He drew back to look into her eyes. _Relief_ sang out of them, _a burden lifted_. The Silmaril was no longer hers.


End file.
